


Pretend

by drivelings



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drivelings/pseuds/drivelings
Summary: An undercover mission in a family-orientated neighborhood presents an interesting opportunity to pose as a pretend-couple; you and Jesse McCree are sent to infiltrate.





	Pretend

A romantic relationship in this line of work was a dangerous thing, and if you both valued your lives, you would never enter one. Attachment is dangerous, you reminded yourself daily. But your traitorous heart ached anyway, unheeding of your rationality and logic.

Dealing with this whole thing would be tremendously easier if you and Jesse McCree weren’t on a long-term mission as a duo. It took every scrap of self-control (and more) to prevent yourself from embarrassing yourself with some over-the-top reaction when this mission was announced. Though, Torbjörn did receive a nasty glare when he shouted, “About damn time. I’ve got projects to fund, you know.”

It’s been weeks since you both came to this city, setting up camp in a residential neighborhood where there were suspected to be a weapons trading ring. It was hard to believe at first considering just how peaceful everything seemed when you and Jesse moved in, pretending to be recently married. When you questioned the decision for this scenario (not that you were entirely against it), Soldier: 76 explained it was to blend in and get among the trading ring’s ranks. It was a very family-orientated neighborhood, after all.

Jesse, always the one to roll with the punches, took your hand and tapped you where a ring would theoretically sit.

“So, d’you wanna take my last name or should I take yours?”

That lit a fire so bright inside you that you felt like you were going to become a victim of spontaneous human combustion.

It wouldn’t be the last time you’d feel such a way.

You both ended up taking some fake name not related to either of you (’Morricone’, Jesse’s pick). The cowboy took on the role of your loving husband quite easily. A hand around your waist when introducing yourselves to the neighborhood (the weight of it was warm and comforting). A kiss on the forehead when no one was looking (you knew they were, you could hear their gossip). Your fingers were constantly laced together in a fake show of affection (you tried not to think of how his hands make you feel safe). The nicknames and flirty words that spilled constantly from his mouth nearly pulled you under the illusion.

Your heart hurt just being so close, pretending to be intimate, but unable to fully indulge in it. In the house, you were both less affectionate, but seeing him every day was absolute torture. Luckily (or unluckily), you both had separate beds.

Small mercies.

More than once, you found yourself wrestling to keep your emotions under control. In public, you could at least satisfy yourself by leaning in close and whispering something in the cowboy’s ear, breathing in the scent of cigarillos (he refused to part with them); running a hand across his cheek and landing a kiss on his face (his beard was kept neat for appearance’s sake); and occasionally leaning against his shoulder, cuddling up to his side (he wouldn’t hesitate to put an arm somewhere around you either, it made your heart hammer madly). You had to constantly remind yourself this was fake. He doesn’t love you, he has to pretend. But every time you both invented new ways to deceiving the neighborhood, you just wished so hard that your feelings would be returned.

Mission first, though.

It wasn’t long before you both began involving yourselves in the community, and by ‘community’, you meant the arms dealing ring. All it took was a few small hints from Jesse that he was interested in hunting and shooting, and you found yourselves entangled in pretend barbecues and poker games that were cover-ups for arms trade discussions.

Soon.

Soon, they’ll let you guys into their ranks and you’ll both be able to get the information you need to take out a larger network and end this ridiculous farce once and for all and return to your lonely life of “what-ifs” and forlorn glances and passing pleasantries.

But today was just another day. It was early, the children in the neighborhood were all getting ready for school as per usual. You stood in the kitchen, preparing a light breakfast for yourself and Jesse before the both of you had to run around town, making pleasantries and following more leads and hopefully getting into the good graces of the prominent members of the ring.

You just finished pouring the coffee (you both had matching cups–it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw Jesse use it), when Jesse plopped himself into the rickety chair, slumping his head into his arms against the table. His hair was sticking out every which way, and he was in barely anything but his boxers. You giggled to yourself. The cowboy wasn’t very much a morning person, especially not after a night of information gathering and snooping.

You placed the steaming mug into his waiting hands. All life seemed to come back to Jesse in an instant. He pulled the cup to his face and took a hearty whiff, a dopey, pleasured grin replaced his previous weariness. You smiled at the scene, leaning back against the counter. It was a small pleasure you allowed yourself. At times like these, when the rest of the world was still quiet, and it’s just the two of you, you could almost convince yourself that this is real. That you both are married, and this isn’t going to disappear anytime soon.

He took a hearty sip, the heat not even phasing him. He groaned his delight, it was a sound you would never get tired of hearing, and you cherished it close to your heart.

“God, I love ya,” he mumbled sleepily into his coffee.

Your brain slammed on its brakes, and you heard him choke and splutter. His brain must’ve finally just caught up. He stood up abruptly, looked at you, frozen. He was completely awake now, and seemed to be entirely out of his element, but all the more endearing because of it. He averted his eyes, focusing on his drink. He took a deep pull from it, like he was trying to will away the situation or buy himself time. You wouldn’t let him, not after dangling something like that in front of you. Never, not even when you were both in public, did he ever utter those words.

“Did you…mean that?” You whispered.

Jesse shrugged, a nervous grin playing on his lips. You could see the cup in his hand tremble just a bit. “Course, I do. We’re husband an–”

“I mean _for real._ ”

A long stretch of silence went by before Jesse put down his cup. He sighed heavily, even his shoulders moved with the sound. A hand came up and slapped the back of his neck. He looked at you carefully, and all of the sudden, you felt the self-consciousness you’ve had since day one about your pajamas returning. His gaze was weary, but full of hidden emotions. Something in your stomach flitted about, both cold and hot.

He pulled air in through his teeth, and said finally, “Y’know what. Yeah, I do. I admit it. Been in love with ya since before we got to this ‘ere town. Sorry, didn’ mean t’spring this on yo…u?”

His words faded from your ears. Hot tears sprung forth and rolled down your cheeks, slipping free from the precarious hold you’ve had over your emotions since day one. He…loved you? You cupped a hand to your face, heart beginning to race. Your other hand reached out to the counter to steady yourself, your knees beginning to lose their strength.

He loved you. And it wasn’t fake.

A gently warmth swaddled your entire body. Is this love? Is this happiness?

“Aw, honeybee, I didn’t mean t'upset ya.”

He made a noise of frustration, hands flexing, reaching toward you then retracting like he doesn’t know whether to hold you or wipe away your tears or if he’s allowed to even touch you.

“I’m not upset,” you said thickly, wiping ineffectually at the tears that poured endlessly out of you. You sniffed, taking in a stuttering breath to try and compose yourself. The warmth in your chest was so smothering that it hurt, but it was the most relieved you’ve felt since before this mission.

“I…just didn’t know you felt the same.”

Jesse stared at you, the edges of his eyes softening when he gets your message.

“Aw, shucks, darlin’,” he sighed. He surged into you, gathering you up into his arms like he can’t get enough and pressed his face into your hair. The hands you loved so much pulled at your back, dragging you deeply into his arms. He inhaled deeply, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Y'have no idea, no idea, how lon’ I’ve been wantin’ to tell ya.”

You could feel his words vibrate through you. You smiled, pressing a kiss into his hair. You tangled your hand into his hair, and rested your face against his shoulder. He was so very warm and felt like home.

“Yeah. Me, too. I loved you since before this gig, too.”

You jumped slightly when you felt something that wasn’t Jesse’s breath or hand in the back of your bare neck.

"Jesse?” It was the sensation of something wet falling and sliding against your skin. You shivered. “Are you…crying?”

There’s a moment of silence. Jesse’s breathing was controlled and betrayed none of your accusations. But the drops kept coming. His grip on you tightened and he dug himself deeper into your embrace, a breathy laugh escaping him. Your stomach felt like it was going to twist itself apart at the sound.

Voice raspy with emotion, he said, “Yeah, darlin’. Yeah, I reckon I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my tumblr at overdrivels.tumblr.com. Thanks for taking the time to read.


End file.
